


Sentiments into sentences

by jacketandboots



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I Love You Scene (Sherlock: The Final Problem), Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25726417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacketandboots/pseuds/jacketandboots
Summary: What if the coffin was never meant for Molly in TFP? What if it was for someone much more closer to Sherlock?
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Fics Sherlock/John





	Sentiments into sentences

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning and the end is merged with the original episode. This is just a 'what if' scenario where the coffin is never meant for Molly.

Sherlock had been pacing around. But then he turned towards the head of the coffin again and blew out a noisy breath. “Well, allowing for the entirely pointless courtesy of headroom, I’d say this coffin is intended for someone of about five foot four. Makes it more likely to be a woman.”

John wondered, “Not a child?” to which Sherlock stated, “A child’s coffin would be more expensive. This is in the lower price range, although still best available in that bracket.”

Out of the blue, John was reminded of one lonely night spent due to another case which led him to cancel on his date and googling the types of coffins. Mycroft however had something else in his mind. As he made his way to the coffin he thought aloud, “Why a woman?”

Sherlock made a look of ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ and turned towards Mycroft. Although giving opinions only when necessary, Mycroft never ceased to have that judgemental look on his face whenever it involved demeaning Sherlock. Apparently, even a near-death situation was not going to stop him. Ignoring the look on Sherlock’s face, he continued, “This is clearly something about you, it always is. But considering your… past affiliations,” he chose the words carefully, “and present ones, do you really think it’s about a woman no matter how likely?”

John was quietly watching the silent battle between the brothers. He had no idea what Mycroft was going after. But he could see discomfort on Sherlock’s face even if he couldn’t figure out that too. Were they seriously not going to stop being condescending with each other? Sherlock stated coldly, “This isn’t a time to rip off bandages Mycroft. There are lives at stake, that plane could crash anytime.” Mycroft stood beside the coffin and made a grim face. “Yes, there are lives at stake, brother mine, including ours. Perhaps you could just see the name on the lid, only it isn’t a name.”

Both Sherlock and John made their way to the coffin. The brass plate read ‘I LOVE YOU’ in bold letters. John was still oblivious to the thoughts of Holmes’ brothers and asked, “So, it’s for somebody who loves somebody?” Mycroft shook his head and explained, “As said before, it’s clearly about Sherlock. So, it has to be for someone who loves him.” 

Eurus was watching the trio with great interest. His elder brother was truly remarkable and had hit the nail almost on the head. However, seeing Sherlock’s clear hesitation to bring his thoughts to words, her words were filled with half scoff and half poison, “You’re almost there Mycroft. But seeing as how time is a challenge for you three, I’ll just lay it down for you. No, it’s not for someone who loves Sherlock. It’s for someone whom Sherlock loves. The one whom Sherlock has always loved. Maybe since their first encounter.”

The Holmes brothers figured out exactly what Eurus was talking about. Mycroft looked sadly at his little brother who had tightly shut his eyes. Sherlock had his lips in a thin line, frustration clearly displayed in his brows and wishing to be anywhere else apart from this situation. He had already figured it out. John kept on looking between them and asked, “What’s going on?” to which Mycroft replied, “I was right. It’s not a woman. It’s a man.”

John was utterly confused. He wasn’t surprised though. Sherlock had clearly stated at Angelo’s all those years ago that girlfriends were really not his area. But then again, the man wasn’t above charming a woman. After all, there was Irene who had received Sherlock’s admiration. Then, he had proposed to Janine to get access of Magnussen’s office. Again, this wasn’t something which wasn’t a part of a case or a set up. Was it, Moriarty? No but he was clearly dead. The body was identified by Mycroft and he wouldn’t lie about such a thing. Was there someone Sherlock had recently met? Or when he was away from him after Mary’s death? But then he wouldn’t have made a mess of himself by listening to Mary as that said partner wouldn’t have encouraged it. Eurus, correctly reading the thoughts on his face, almost laughed. “Oh, poor John! You still don’t get it. But then again, you see but you don’t observe.” His eyes widened at the familiar phrase.

Sherlock had ten times more thoughts in his mind than what John had. This was plain torture. He was torn between choosing to confront the only man he had loved and to kill himself. He was never good with feelings. This was not how this was supposed to happen. It should’ve never happened. He hadn’t kept this facade all this time only to be broken by this emotionless, psychopath of a sister. Sentiment is chemical defect found in the losing side. These words, these exact words made The Woman plead for mercy of her life. But he was not about to plead the same to Eurus. As bad as he hated not having the upper hand, he knew he had no other choice. The room must have been filled with holes for little darts useful for “calming” down the patients and clearly his sister could use that to her advantage for knocking them out or worse, poison them. She wouldn’t let them die so easily. Then there was the pistol which had just one bullet left and Sherlock wanted to never use it but he couldn’t put it past Eurus to tell him to shoot the man just after confessing his feelings. Or to even shoot his brother then and there for some reason. He wouldn’t let that happen though, now or even ahead if such plan had was concocted by his sister. He would have to face it. Sherlock was about to take the biggest risk of his life, that included the plan he had designed to survive the fall.

“It’s for you John, the coffin.” he whispered, audible enough for John to hear. He didn’t want any of them to hear it actually. One would express sadness and the other would express part disbelief and part rage. John wouldn’t believe it for a second or even think that all this is just a part of a game for Sherlock. A trick to try and manipulate Eurus into stopping this madness and make a fool out of John. But this wasn’t a trick. No more tricks. He played the trick all these years trying to keep John oblivious about the love he had in his heart. Yes, Sherlock Holmes had a heart and as cheesy as it sounds, it belonged to John. Even if it didn’t happen right away, it grew over the years. Sherlock was used to observe the littlest of things around him and this is the reason he fell for John. And why wouldn’t he?

Just like his assumption, John’s face held disbelief. Hmm… the rage would definitely follow. “What?” was all John could come up with. Hearing no response from either of the Holmes, he rubbed a hand on his forehead and asked again, “What the hell is she trying to make you say? What is happening?” Sherlock was sure this would happen. All he could do is turn his face towards his best friend and replied, “It’s true John. The coffin is for you. It is for someone whom I love.”

John started shaking his head and made his way so close to Sherlock that the detective wondered if he was on the receiving end of a punch. But no such thing happened. John asked, “Is this a part of your plan? Is this just something which you’re saying because you think you don’t have any other choice? If that’s the case then I’m on board with this. But don’t try to make me believe that you, Sherlock Holmes, have bloody loved me all these years! I won’t accept it, I just won’t!” The rage, in response to Sherlock’s words and combined with the situation had finally surfaced. Because John knew that Sherlock would never lie to him in a situation like this. Surely there wasn’t a bomb here which was going to explode in less than two minutes. But then again that was totally different. Sherlock won’t stoop this low unless he had a strong reason. John was just a pawn again in one of the detective’s experiments, wasn’t he? This wasn’t real.

Both Sherlock and Mycroft could understand what John was thinking. But Sherlock was the one who spoke, “This is no plan, John. It’s the truth. Plain and simple.” Mycroft simply nodded. John’s eyes widened again and he kept looking between the three siblings with his throat dry and at a loss of words. Eurus was totally enjoying this. “Isn’t it obvious? Has he opened up with someone else the way he has with you? Has he ever tried to put himself first when it came to the both of you?” Seeing John’s confused face again Eurus continued, “Ahh you think he did it all as he is your best friend. Well you’re not wrong John. You’re his best friend and obviously he is yours. But considering your preferences and Sherlock’s way of being dedicated to his work, why would he ever confront you about it? He has trusted you with his life all this time.”  
The ‘dedicated to work’ detective was clearly pissed off. He didn’t care how Eurus knew about all this but how dare she try to take the one thing away which Sherlock held so close to him? That bond built with John in all these years was as platonic as anyone could keep. He never let his sentiments get in the way of how he was around John. As much as it pained to see him with someone else, he never stopped John because seeing his best friend happy made him feel like an actual happy human with feelings. And now even that was at the risk of going away. All because of his sister. All because she had to play this little game with him where she planned to pull him out piece by piece and rip all those pieces apart.

Suddenly the screen turned into a timer for three minutes. Eurus’s voice boomed through the speakers, “Sherlock, you have exactly three minutes to make John say the words ‘I LOVE YOU’ and he should mean it. I know your doctor is completely loyal to your every move, no matter how silly or outrageous it is. So, it’s fairly obvious that he will be ready to say those words in a heartbeat. But we wouldn’t want that now, would we? No no no, I want John to say it only when he completely means it. And mind you, big brother has already told about my abilities. Surely, I don’t need to tell you about the implications if you don’t agree to my terms. If you don’t say it back, I will choose to end one among you three, completely depending on my mood. Off you go, Sherlock!” Her words mocked the three of them. Mycroft wished he could have kept more eyes on the facility, John not knowing what to do and Sherlock, and Sherlock wished for something to hold on to once this was over.

Sherlock never really understood what sentiments really meant for other people. He just knew how to use them for his own benefit. Sure, he could get a confession out of a crying widow or provoke someone to annoy at the point of punching him. But never in his wildest dreams he thought he would have to face something like this. Maybe this is what the killers felt while confessing. However silly or practical the motive, there would be sentiment involved in every confession he has ever heard. Of course, he preferred to listen to only the interesting ones but it hardly took a genius to figure out why someone did what they did. Sherlock was above all these people. But not anymore. There was someone who was actually controlling him. Controlling the most important and precious thing after his brain. All these years he had just one shred to go on with his life, only one purpose. It was John. Surely the cocaine and cigarettes kept him high. But John… John kept him sane. Yes, the man deserved to know what Sherlock felt about him. Still, not now and definitely not like this. Not when he was just getting over his wife’s death and definitely not when he was facing a life-death situation. The timer suddenly started. And to add fuel to the fire, Moriarty’s voice could be heard in a loud whisper, “Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tick”. Seeing no other option than to be honest, like he always was with John, and to face this no matter how difficult, Sherlock stood in front of John, took a deep breath and began.

“John, when we first met, I deduced you were a man who has faced danger for almost half his life. I saw you as my potential flatmate. But the night you saved my life, something stirred in me. No one had ever done that for me. Mycroft and Lestrade always had my back but then again, they always had their reasons. And I know even you saved me due to your moral principle of not letting any good person die under your watch. That’s what hit me. You considered me as a good person. You considered me as human. Lestrade called me a great man, but you believed somewhere I can be a good man too. The first meal we shared after you killed the cabbie showed me how you perceive me and showed the possibility of me reaching up to that perception. When Irene Adler showed up, you thought there could be something between us. I admit I was physically attracted to her. But that attraction was nothing when compared to what I felt for you. You were the first person who offered me his friendship with no ulterior motive. And mind you, I have used that in my advantage a number of times. Although I must admit that never made me confess my true feelings to you. Before…” he thought for a second for a better choice of words. “Before making that jump at Bart’s, I remember fighting with you. You called me a machine. You mentioned that friends protect people. That’s why I made that jump John. I had to save my only friend. Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft are close but even they know what kind of a friendship we both have always shared. I have to admit I briefly thought about giving you a hint about all this but then I saw how happy you were. How you had seen that perfect partner in Mary. I didn’t want to take that away from you. I didn’t want to be the cause of your pain one more time. As much as it pained me to see you away, not in 221B and not nearby, I was happy for you. When you asked me to be my best man, that was the moment I realized that you were finally going to go about your way, starting your own family, away from this mess and mainly away from me. I accepted Mary because I knew you had chosen good. But that best man speech was a final attempt to make you realize how much you mean to me. If Mycroft would have been there, I’m sure he must have deduced it. I made a vow to protect you three but sadly I couldn’t. But don’t think for a second that I let Mary die. I just couldn’t keep my promise. I failed you. Cocaine was the only comfort left for me as you decided to not see me at all. I must really thank Mary. She must have seen something, sometime on my face or in my eyes when I always looked at you. Molly had also mentioned this once that I unconsciously get sad when I see that you’re not looking at me. Not seeing the depths of my thoughts for you. I have never been good with emotions John but don’t think for a second that I haven’t felt any. I would make it sound like I’m blaming you but clearly, I refrained myself from expressing myself to you mainly due to your sexual orientation and the fact I make you feel like you want to kill me sometimes. I would never trade a single second spent with you with anything at all. You get me, John. You always have. I can see that you’re now choosing between beating the crap out of me and tell me to shut up. But you must know that for this… you’re not under any obligation. I have never tried to either express myself or manipulate you into falling in love with me. You’re not a part of a case John. You are so much more than that. Which is why for once, I don’t want you to listen to Eurus. That pistol has just one bullet left and judging by the level of pain she plans for me I will definitely need to use it. Don’t worry about her killing you or Mycroft. I know I am bad at keeping promises but I want you to trust me just this once. You don’t need to say it back. She wants revenge on me. You not saying it back will be a good enough reason for me to suffer silently and I bet she would love that. This is neither the place, not the time for me to say all this, but a wise doctor has taught me to be selfless once in a while. I’m not saying all this to protect myself, I’m saying all of this to protect you. Just like the way I fell for you, literally. Although you must know that I mean every single word. No matter how we survive this, I would never ever try to force my feelings on you or make Rosie believe into something which isn’t there in the first place, that is if you let me near her again. You were, are and will always be my only friend. The best friend I never thought I wanted, but always knew I needed. I guess all this sums up to say, John, I love you, obviously. I always have. Maybe you perceive it differently considering you don’t like men, but I look at you as someone whom I never want to let go. Never.”

Sherlock and John let out a huge sigh at the same time. Mycroft had a look of surprise, the same look which he had when Sherlock had asked him for privacy before bidding goodbye to John at the airstrip. John’s brain was still processing and Sherlock was suddenly weary, as if the day had finally caught up to him. He glanced at the timer to see there were just fifty seconds left for that timer to end but he didn’t care anymore. He completely left the situation in John’s hands. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore, but if Eurus even touched a hair of Mycroft or John, he didn’t know what he would do about it. Along with not having the upper hand, Sherlock hated not knowing too.

John looked down for around ten seconds, time was running out. There was no point in asking Sherlock whether he meant any of it. All these years knowing Sherlock, he knew he was always honest whenever he said things as if he was explaining them. Moreover, he had mentioned about the truthfulness of his words. Damn it! This was a lot to process. This reminded John of Angelo’s. Sherlock had tried to politely turn down John thinking that John was asking him out. This was a hundred times bigger and different.

The room’s light turned into red, reminding them the intensity of the situation. John looked up, then at Sherlock and just asked, “You say I don’t need to answer. But what if I want to? How does it feel to trick someone all these years and yet be selfless? I really don’t know what to make out of all this but I do know one thing.”

Twenty seconds. Mycroft was growing more anxious by the second. Sherlock bore into John’s eyes and asked, “What is it, John?”

“I love you too. Not in the way you do. But I do. And I mean it. You are still Rosie’s godfather and I would never want to change that. I don’t know what holds ahead for us either. But yes Sherlock, I have grown to love you in my own weird way. But in your way? I don’t think so.”

Sherlock knew John was being completely honest. The man couldn’t lie at all, not even if he tried. The lights were still red and Sherlock yelled, “You’ve heard it Eurus! John meant it and I’m sure you know he meant it. I won! I saved all of us!”

The timer made several beeps to indicate it had stopped. All the men heaved out noisy sighs of relief. Eurus laughed, “Won? Really Sherlock? Look at the mess you’ve created in your best friend’s mind. Look at you. You have given yourself hope. Don’t try to hide it, it’s clear in your eyes. You know what hope can do to you right? And all those complicated little emotions. I lost count. Emotional context, Sherlock. It destroys you every time.” Sherlock made his way past the coffin and dropped the pistol from his hand. Eurus sat back in her chair, satisfied that she was able to break his brother a little more. She continued, “Now, please, pull yourself together. I need you at peak efficiency. The next one isn’t going to be so easy.”

A door opened and Mycroft looked at it. Sherlock carefully closed the coffin with the lid and looked at it for a second. He put his hand on the top and quietly breathed out a sob. Sherlock had been humiliated in front of John, and he knew that John would see him differently now. Even though John mentioned that he loved Sherlock in his own way, it hurt to be rejected. The one time he bared his soul to someone, it was for a challenge. A game. A problem. John didn’t deserve this and neither did he. Eurus showed him his most vulnerable side to the person who was the reason behind it. All that pent-up rage surfaced and he pulled back his right arm and smashed it with all his strength down onto the lid, shattering it. He drew back his hand and then slammed both fists down onto the lid again and again, then seized the side of the coffin and lifted the whole thing before smashing it down repeatedly on top of the trestles, disintegrating the box into pieces while he cried out over and over again in rage, grief and frustration. Eventually he let out a long, anguished scream which echoed upwards into the chimney and up into the air above the prison. The rain had arrived and poured downwards, while lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Finally, he stopped and sat down with his legs bent up in front of him and wrists rested on the tops of his knees. His head was lowered and he stared at the floor in front of him, breathing heavily with a distressed look on his face. John felt sorry for Sherlock. Even though he was on the receiving end, he knew what it felt like to be rejected, partly. This must have been really difficult for Sherlock. But right now, they needed to be soldiers. He went near the splintered wood and picked up the pistol and cleared up his throat. Sherlock looked up at him blankly and took the pistol from John’s hands. John said very carefully, “Look, I know this is difficult and I know you’re being tortured, but you have got to keep it together.” Without lifting his head, Sherlock replied, “This isn’t torture; this is vivisection. We’re experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats.” He breathed out loudly and raised his head to rest it against the wall behind him and gazed upwards. Mycroft watched from nearby, looking concerned. Sherlock glanced in his direction without turning his head, then swallowed and looked up at John.

John promised, “We will talk about… what you said once we get out of here. We will build our flat together and be equal parents to Rosie no matter what. I understand what you must have felt but we right now we need to focus on… not ourselves. I meant it too whatever I said you know. Every word. But for now?”

Sherlock questioned, “Soldiers?” to which John nodded, “Soldiers.” And the three made their way to the next room.


End file.
